


Prom Night

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Archie Comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-23
Updated: 2008-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1627613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the first night of the rest of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prom Night

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Josan!
> 
> Written for riordan10

 

 

The evening was warm and starry. The large platform that had been set up for dancing was lit with paper lanterns and their glow rippled across the surface of the swimming pool. The music was varied, and the band was a good one. Teenagers dressed to the nines were swaying, intertwined in pairs, to a slow song.

Jughead Jones stood in the spot he'd staked by the long and well-stocked buffet table, taking in the sights, pleasantly filled for the moment and reasonably pleased with himself and with the world at large.

It was finally over. Four years of high school that felt more like forty, sometimes. People often referred to those years as the best in their lives, and at the moment Jughead really couldn't disagree. Sure, the classes hadn't been a breeze. And the detentions hadn't been all that rare. And the sports-related hijinks, the ongoing rivalries for prestige or romance or grades, or... Well, all right. The four years had had their ups and downs, but on the whole, they'd been pretty good.

He surveyed the other party guests like a king surveying his kingdom. Or, in his case, more like a jester. He'd worked hard to earn his status as class oddity, and he'd worn the crown that came with it with pride. All around him were people who'd laughed and fought with him, shared their lives and joys and problems with him. Oh, he joined the rest of them in expressing his relief that school was finally over, but it was a bittersweet relief for all that. These people had been a large part of his life for a very long time, and this prom party seemed to mark an ending more than a beginning.

The slow song ended and a faster followed it. He caught a flash of red hair and watched with an indulgent smile as his best friend gyrated on the dance platform with his date. He'd felt a great deal of satisfaction when Archie had asked Betty to the prom, and he knew he wasn't the only one. Luckily, Veronica hadn't been too put out about it; the Lodges were hosting the party and she could have made life difficult for all of them. He looked around, but couldn't see her. No doubt she was off with Reggie, her own date. 

With a feeling that all had worked out for the best, he reached down to help himself to a canape. His hand met another just over the plate, and he glanced up into a pair of brown eyes. He jerked back in panic, and just barely kept himself from scampering off in fear.

"Hi, Jughead."

He'd been avoiding Ethel for the past few weeks, ever since the day she'd cornered him by his locker and asked him point blank to accompany her to this prom. He tried to let her down as gently as he could but he'd been stricken by the disappointed pain in her eyes. Like a coward, he'd fled, stammering an apology. 

He liked Ethel, he really did. She was fun, she was sassy. She cared as little about what people thought as he did. If only she'd gotten over the silly infatuation of hers, they could have been good friends. He'd even considered accepting her invitation, as long as she was clear that it would only be platonic. But he'd promised himself in his freshman year that he'd go stag to his prom, and it was one promise he wanted to keep.

"Hi, Ethel. You look nice."

She did, too. She'd found a style of dress that complemented her height, and done something to her hair that gave her long face some roundness. If he had been interested in her like that, well, he would have been very interested now.

"So do you."

That, he knew, was a polite white lie. He was wearing his dad's tux, slightly too short in the sleeves; there was a spot of salad dressing on his shirt; and the sneakers he'd worn with the ensemble were scuffed. But he smiled and waved a hand to the table. "Can I offer you a plate of something?"

"Thanks," she said. "I'm starving."

As he loaded up a plate for her, sneaking in a few bites of his own, he thought about asking her if she'd found anyone to come with, but couldn't find a way to phrase it without sounding like a heel. 

"Dilton seems to have ditched me," she said, reading his mind. "He found some sort of rare mildew by the pool house."

"Ouch," he said. "Dumped for fungus."

"Could have been worse," she said with a shrug. "Could have been hamburgers."

He winced, but before he could respond, she lay a hand on his arm. "Juggie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, you did," he said. "But I deserved it, and more."

"All you did was tell the truth," she said. She took a bite or two of her food, then set the plate down. "I've been a complete idiot, haven't I?"

"Ethel..."

"The truth, remember? Tell me, did I ever have a chance? Even a small one?"

He took her hands and looked steadily into her eyes. "I wish I could say yes," he said after a moment. 

"Can we keep in touch?"

"I'd like that," he said, letting her go. 

There was a rush of movement behind them, marking the sudden appearance of Dilton Doiley. "Ethel," he said. "There you are!"

"How's the mildew?" asked Jughead.

"Oh, hi, Jughead. It's fascinating! I asked Mr. Lodge if I could come by sometime and study it further. But for now, well. Would you mind if I stole Ethel away for a dance? Ethel?"

She smiled, her cheeks a little flushed, and handed Jughead her half-empty plate. "Take care," she said.

"You too."

He watched them go, fondly. They made an interesting couple. The top of Dilton's head barely came up to Ethel's shoulders, but from the flush on _his_ cheeks, it seemed to put him at eye-level with an interesting view. Ah, he thought. Hormones.

He jumped as an arm draped itself across his shoulders. He turned, and smiled. Speaking of hormones "Hey, Arch."

"You should be out there," said Archie. "It's wild!"

"So's the dip," said Jughead, popping a carrot stick laden with creamy substance into his mouth.

"You're enjoying yourself, I see," said Archie.

"Best night of our lives, right?"

Archie laughed. He reached for a triangle of sandwich, crusts neatly cut off, and ate it in two bites. 

"Where did Betty go?" asked Jughead.

"Went to powder her nose," Archie replied.

"You two seem to be having a good time."

"As good a time as you could be having if you'd get out there with us," said Archie.

"Nah. You know me and dancing. I'll just stay here and chaperone."

"That's what _they're_ for," said Archie, pointing off to the side, where Professor Flutesnoot was standing guard over the punch bowl. Nearby, the Bee was discussing something or other with Mr. Lodge.

"We can use all the help we can get," said Ms. Grundy, joining them. "I always said you rabble-rousers would be the death of us."

"Aw, Ms. G.," said Archie with a charming grin. "Admit it. You're going to miss us."

She sniffed. "Well," she said. "Perhaps a little." Then she smiled. "Or perhaps more than a little, you scamp."

He laughed, then said, "Hey, there's Bets. See you, Jughead. Ms. Grundy." He sped off into the crowd.

"Yes," said Ms. Grundy softly. "More than a little."

A wicked impulse came to Jughead. "Would you care to dance?" he asked, offering a hand to his teacher.

She looked at him archly for a moment, then smiled. "I'd be delighted, Mr. Jones."

He led her to the dance floor, earning amused glances from all around. Thankfully, the song was a slow one. As they stepped in time to the music, he said, "We're going to miss you, too, you know. You're a heck of a teacher."

"Now that the term's over," she said, "I don't mind telling you that you're pretty special yourself."

He stared at her.

"I mean it, Forsythe. I've rarely had a student that showed so much unique and creative potential. You have it in you to excel in any field you put your mind to, provided you work at it."

"That's..." he began, dumbfounded. "That's... Thanks, Ms. Grundy."

The dance ended without any more bombshells, and he left Ms. Grundy in Chuck Clayton's capable hands. Still reeling from the unexpected kindness shown by the normally gruff teacher, he decided that a trip to the men's room wouldn't be amiss. He took care of business quickly and, when he was back out into the warmth of the June evening, he considered his options. The dance floor was packed, and besides he'd already had his fill of dancing. He hadn't had his fill of eating, but Smithers was busy replenishing the buffet. Jughead would wait. 

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a movement in the shadows. He thought for a panicked moment that it was some couple or other seeking privacy (no doubt Moose and Midge were around here someplace), but the silhouette he saw was alone. And familiar. He decided that no evening was complete without the opportunity to needle Reggie Mantle, so he headed in that direction.

"The party's over that way, if you're lost," he said.

"The party's where I say it is," replied Reggie, patting a suspiciously bottle-shaped lump in his jacket pocket.

Jughead looked at his friend sharply. Reggie was a wild card at the best of times, but he wasn't stupid. "You want to ruin a fun evening," said Jughead, "go right ahead."

"What do you know about fun evenings? Your idea of a good time is an extra-large pizza."

"With extra toppings," Jughead agreed. "Right. I'll leave you to your good time, then. Don't puke in the azaleas; Mr. Lodge'll have your head."

He turned to go, but Reggie's voice stopped him. "How can you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Be so frickin' calm, about everything. Good old, easy going, laid back Jughead Jones. Nothing ever gets to you."

"You really think that?"

"You parade around like the freak you are and everybody loves you. You're different. You're odd. And nobody laughs at you."

"Except for you."

"Yeah," said Reggie slowly. "Except for me. You go around saying you hate women, and nobody's strung you up for a queer yet."

"Riverdale's not like that," said Jughead softly. "You're not like that." Reggie had always been a bit of a prick, but Jughead had never seen him this mean before. "How much have you had to drink, Reggie?"

"I haven't," said Reggie. "Not yet."

He approached Jughead, a strange look in his eyes. "So, you don't think I'm like that, huh?"

"Reggie..."

Reggie suddenly grabbed Jughead by the shoulders. Jughead braced himself for a punch, but instead found himself dragged forward as Reggie kissed him.

The kiss lasted just long enough for Jughead to confirm that, no, Reggie hadn't been drinking. Then he was free, and he staggered back in shock.

"Reggie," he gasped. "I... I'm not gay."

Reggie laughed bitterly. "I know. The great woman-hater is straight as an arrow. And the great womanizing Reginald Mantle is bent as a slinky."

"God, Reggie," said Jughead. 

"I mean, isn't the irony just perfect?"

"Reggie, it's okay."

"Okay? In what universe is it okay? What about my career? What about my _life_? What about my _parents_?"

All right, he might have a problem there. Mr. Mantle, Sr., had well-known opinions about certain members of society. But he was just one man.

"Reg," said Jughead, laying a hand gently on his friend's shoulder. "Reg, if you need to talk..."

"Talk?" snorted Reggie, shakily. 

"I know a little something about being different," said Jughead. "I'll help you through this any way I can."

Reggie looked at him for a long moment. "I'll think about it," he said at last. Then, grudgingly, he said, "Sorry about earlier."

"No problem," said Jughead. Then he indicated Reggie's pocket. "Go easy on that stuff, will you?"

"We'll see."

Jughead nodded, then turned and left Reggie alone in the shadows. 

As he neared the party, lost in thought, he just narrowly avoided a collision and found himself with an armful of pink taffeta.

"Whoops!" said Betty, laughing. "Thanks, Juggie."

"Anytime," he said, smiling back. Betty looked like a princess in her dress, happiness making her face glow.

"How are you enjoying the evening?"

"It's fantastic," she said dreamily.

He didn't blame her. She'd probably been dreaming of this evening for years. "Where'd Arch go?"

"He's dancing with Ronnie."

"Oh?"

"Ladies' choice," she said. "She was looking for Reggie, but he's disappeared; so she asked Archie." Catching his dark look, she added, "It's okay, Juggie. I'm all danced out right now, anyway."

She looked it, too. He led her to a nearby bench and, when she'd sat down, he went to get her some punch. He came back with two glasses, and sat beside her while they drank.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked him at last. "I haven't seen you dance much."

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I'm not much of a dancer anyway."

Her dress rustled as she shifted to stretch out her tired legs. He caught a hint of scent from her hair, light and flowery. He liked it.

"I'm happy for you," he said.

She looked at him, a question in her eyes.

"I'm happy that you're happy," he amended.

"I am," she said. "I'm surrounded by friends."

"And Archie."

"Yes," she said. "Like I said, friends."

"Just friends?"

She smiled. "I've been looking forward to tonight for a very long time. It's been perfect - the evening, the decorations, the dress. Being here with Archie. It's a dream come true. But you know how dreams are; they change in a heartbeat."

"Is it Archie dancing with Ronnie?"

"No," she said. "That's just friendship, too. I think we're all realizing that, tonight. We're going our separate ways soon. We'll all change and grow and find other soul mates." She laughed. "Poor Archie's going to fall in love with a new girl every semester."

He laughed, too. "I guess so," he said.

She was looking up at the stars, and he took the opportunity to look at _her_ , at the curl of blonde hair escaping her elaborate hairstyle and tucked up behind her ear. It occurred to him that, perhaps, he'd been looking forward to tonight for a long time, too.

"Betty," he said softly.

She looked at him.

"Would you like to dance?"

"I'd love to," she said.

 


End file.
